Isn't Life Fickle?
by Daedalus370
Summary: Twenty years have passed since the start of the original Harvest Moon, heralding in a new generation and new love.  Follow Erika along one of the most important days of her young life, one that would inevitably change her life forevermore.


****Twenty years after Year One of the original Harvest Moon. . . .****

A lone girl sat at a writing desk within her second-story room and stared out of the nearby window into the vast landscape beyond. Out there lay still-growing sprouts of corn, neatly bunched together in thick columns, and even further was a conglomerate of stout, stubby hills rolling into colossal mountains to the east. Everything was cloaked in darkness, lit only by the shining stars that glimmered like an endless field of perfectly cut diamonds and the fading crescent moon that loomed just above the house, outside of her narrow line of sight as if it were shyly attempting to hide itself.

She emitted a shallow sigh and returned her gaze to her desk, on which sat a small green notebook that she had laid open in front of her twenty minutes earlier. A set of three lit candles within brass candleholders sat between the notebook and the opposite end of the desk, shedding enough light in the room while not hurting the eyes. Each of the pages seemed to stare up towards her, and was filled out with a large amount of small and tidy words compressed into variously-shaped paragraphs and written in black ink. Her eyes darted to the top of the left-hand page, and she started to read the beginning of the first paragraph:

_ "Summer, Day 5, Sunday:_

_I met with my good friend Isaac at the church service again today. I was quite surprised by what had happened when we sat next to each other in the far back. He held my hand, and looked at me with such a nice and genial smile. I wonder sometimes, does he like me as much as I do him? Or is he just being the nice friend that I always know he is? I am so confused, Diary. Maybe I will be able to talk with him, just us two, about our __feelings for each other__ friendship with each other. If that day ever comes, I could only hope that it will end up well, that it doesn't jeopardize our being friends._

_ Summer, Day 6, Monday:_

_I did it. I talked to Isaac after helping Dad out with the farm, and, Diary, I am happy to say that it went well! In fact, I told him my feelings, for him as a friend and more. He just stood there, just listening to me as I spoke, but after I told him, he smiled. But like the smile before, it was full of warmth and kindness that surpassed any other than I had ever received. His face went dark—either through embarrassment or an attempt to suppress his feelings, I have no idea—but he answered in turn that he __loved__ had feelings for me as well! Never before was I so happy in all my life, and nervous as well! Never! I hugged him, and he hugged back. We even made plans far for tomorrow to meet at Eve's inn for some lunch, as phenomenal as that sounds! I truly cannot wait till then, when I can see and feel Isaac's presence again._

_ Summer, Day 7, Tuesday:_

_I rushed through chores as quickly as I could and prepared for __my date__, well, I suppose you can call it a date. I dressed up in my favourite clothes and tried to not make it too formal so that I looked silly, and undid my ponytail for my hair to hang loose. Mom looked at me funny, but I didn't care. At the inn, he was dressed in his everyday clothes as well, so I am glad that I chose the informal clothes. Diary, you wouldn't believe the smile he wore when I came in. He was happy that I came, and I believe I was equally happy! We discussed several things when we sat down for lunch, but the best thing we talked about was going to the Starry Night Festival together tonight! Unfortunately, it started to rain hard at five o'clock. I got completely soaked when I was fixing up the fence on the far side of the farm and running back to the house! But it was the thought that counts, right? I mean, about Isaac. He cares about me enough to ask, that much is certain!_

_ Summer, Day 8, Wednesday:_

_The rain continued to pound through the night, leaving me and my family stuck in the house until two o'clock in the afternoon. It was fine though. It gave me enough time to help clean about the house and help Mom with tweaking her inventions. As soon as the rain ended, Isaac came to the farm and apologized for the sudden change of plans last night. I could only smile at his sweetness, and told him that it was quite all right, but that he owed me a date tomorrow. Yes, I said date! It was a slip of the tongue, but he understood me without an odd glance after I said it! He will meet up with me at the farm at three o'clock! There isn't a doubt now: he thinks of me more than a friend!_

_Summer, Day 9, Thursday:"_

The emotionless countenance that she wore swiftly changed to a wondrous smile as she read through her own journal entries at a blazing speed, and she even emitted several joyful laughs along the way. She couldn't wait for the date that was going to happen later on today, but she was anxious about it as well.

The first rays of sunlight started to shine on her face as they poured like water from the shallow valley between the looming Twin Mountains to the east. _Sunrise_, she thought gleefully as she looked in awe at the rising sun. _Such a beautiful start to what is definitely going to be an amazing day! _She brought her attention back to the open notebook in front of her, took a pen from the left-most drawer inside her writing desk, and proceeded to write.

"_First entry: The sun rose to greet me and promise me that everything that will happen today will never be forgotten or twisted from age. It will always be thought back to with a smile as the first true date between Isaac and me. Wish me good fortune, Diary."_

Daylight was now pouring in through the open window, illuminating her room completely and making the candles obsolete. It was a simple square bedroom with the usual four walls, all of which were painted white and unadorned by any ornaments; a bland birch-wood door; three windows, one facing southward and two facing eastward; a large and tall oaken bed without a footboard or headboard; a dresser with a viewing mirror on top of it; and the writing desk and seat that she was sitting on at the moment.

With a tiny huff, she raised herself from her chair, placed her diary in the right-most drawer of the desk, and doused each of the candles with a pair of licked fingers. She was not afraid of being burned; in fact, she was hardly afraid of anything short of a raging hurricane or a pack of ravenous wolves. Smiling, she then traveled to the dresser and looked at her reflection through the mirror.

She was a young lady seventeen years of age, and had an oval face beaming in radiance. Her orange-red hair, courtesy from her mother's side of the family, reached just barely beyond her shoulders and shone strikingly in the sunlight like embers of fire. Her emerald eyes continuously emitted a radiant glow that made her enjoyable to be around, but due to her timid nature, this was not very known to any but her best friend and her parents. She was dressed in a randomly chosen deep-blue dress that ran down to her knees (randomly because she fumbled around in the dark for it earlier) and very thin silken slippers that she loved to wear around the house.

She giggled at the sight of herself and tossed her hair lightly to sift it back into order before traveling towards the door.

"Time to help out with chores," she spoke in a soft whisper cheerfully as she opened and closed the door behind her, "and after that, I have as much time as necessary to prepare for Isaac."

* * *

The red-headed girl leaned onto an upstanding hoe that she held in her hands and glanced around at her handiwork: perfectly manicured rows of five or six tomato stalks, corn sprouts, and the very large leaves from the rare summer turnips that her father had bred for export. She had never liked the summer turnips, or turnips in general, but she had a passion for tomatoes and corn that made her parents grow rows of each in a separate patch to the north of their house, next to the moonflower garden that had blossomed and grown on and over the walls thanks to long, clingy tendrils. Sometimes she just sat in the midst of the garden, looking left and right at the smiling faces of the morning glories and finding herself smiling back at them.

The sun was high in the sky and shone generously onto the plants that happily absorbed its rays. Must be eleven o'clock, she divined by the sun's locale and emitted a loud exhale, as it was so relieving to see that everything was in better order than it was beforehand.

"Ahm, hello Erika," spoke a soft masculine voice from behind her.

She leaped in terror and twisted around to see the face of her best friend two paces away from her.

"I-Isaac!" she stammered while the blood rushed to her tanned cheeks. Her eyes skimmed over him from top to bottom not once, but twice, and she unleashed a very cheerful smile while she did.

Isaac was just as old as she was, and had a very kindly-seeming face that made her want to giggle whenever she glanced at it. His curly sepia-brown hair was of a natural length, and was so thick that it seemed like a solid, undulating mass of follicles. His eyes were a rich hazel-brown, and gleamed similar to hers oftentimes. He was dressed in an undecorated crimson T-shirt that was a smidgeon too large for his body, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black and thin leather walking boots.

Isaac lifted his hand over his shoulder and scratched his back nervously.

"I'm very sorry to have startled you. I just was passing by the farm from the logging station up the mountain and thought that I would stop by to say 'hi.' "

"It is quite fine, really . . . it was just that I didn't expect you," she answered with an embarrassed smile, looking into his eyes again. She thought to herself what she liked most about him, but never came up with an answer. Whether it was the sweet glint in his eye, his cute appearance, or his always positive attitude, she couldn't make up her mind.

He let loose one of his famous smiles again before looking down hesitantly.

"So, still feel like going on that date that I owe you?"

Another blush later, Erika nodded and said, "You bet!"

"Very good; I look forward to it as well. I'm a little undecided on what to do and where to go for it, though, so . . . I was wondering if you would like to choose the place."

"I would like that . . . very much. I know just the place," she smiled while averting her eyes bashfully. "Thank you for offering; I promise that you will love it."

"I knew that part already," Isaac chuckled. "Anywhere I go with you I enjoy. Well, I'll see you at three o'clock then, eh?"

"Sure thing."

"Until then, then," he spoke with his trademark smile and walked off through the main gate of the farm.

She watched him until he disappeared down the road and unleashed a tiny giggle before traveling back to the large farmhouse that she called home. _ He said that anywhere he goes with me, he enjoys! He truly does like me then as much as I do with him! _She walked onto the covered porch in front of the house and opened the door, but when she was about to close it she heard a distinct meow from inside the doorway and stepped aside; a white cat bespeckled with black and light-brown spots darted out of the door and onto the wooden railing that her father had built recently to lounge in the sun.

"Oh, Loki," she laughed openly as she watched the tabby's movements and wagging her finger at him. "You mischievous little thing, you."

The cat simply stared at her with its yellow eyes and flicked its tail around in interest, causing her to laugh even more. A few seconds later she replaced the door behind her and trampled up the stairs to her room to read a few short stories from her favourite author and prepare for the date she was looking so forward to.

* * *

Clouds quickly covered the landscape and blotted out the sun almost completely before unleashing another downpour at two in the afternoon, leaving Erika stuck inside the house again and sitting at the open window of her room. The wind blew from the northwest, so she was not risking getting wet by blown raindrops, but she wouldn't have minded much if she actually did get peppered by rain.

"Stupid weather," she groaned lightly, her head halfway outside the window lying on her folded arms, "it always chooses the worst times for raining! That's two failed dates with Isaac in a row then. . . . I wonder if he's thinking the same thing, only about me: that he wishes the weather would work to our advantage instead of against it. Stupid weather. . . ."

A knock at her bedroom door broke her soliloquy off immediately.

"Come on in, please . . . ," she uttered in the same tone of voice and turned her head to face the already open door. "Oh, hello Mom."

"Hi Erika," spoke her mother with a forced smile on her face. "Is something the matter, dear?"

Erika's mom Ann was standing in the middle of the door and was looking at her with an anxious set of dark-green eyes that knew whenever Erika was upset. At the age of thirty-eight, she hardly seemed any older than when she married her husband nineteen years ago. Her orange-red hair that would have hung to the length of her center of her back was neatly twisted into a Dutch braid and lightly hung over her right-hand shoulder. She was clad in a simple grayish-brown dress that stretched to just a few inches from her feet, as well as a pair of deerskin slippers that she had bought from Eve the innkeeper's grandfather before he retired from his post as hunter of their town.

Erika turned her head away and back out the window.

"Nothing much, Mom . . . just unhappy about the weather, is all."

Ann nodded in understanding.

"It is because of that boy you are hanging out with, isn't it? You were going to go on a date with him today, hmm?" she inquired, a real smile showing itself this time.

"M-mom! I don't—I just—I—" she blurted in denial after twisting her head back to her mother.

"Heh, you can't fool me, dear. I know you beam in happiness whenever he is around, and that he does the same with you."

Erika slumped her shoulders in defeat.

"Please don't be that way, Erika; I only said that because I am happy for you," her mom continued. Erika erected herself in her seat again and stared at her mom in dumbfounderment before she continued: "Yes, I—or rather your father and I—are so happy for you about conquering your fears and going out with Isaac now. But I want to let you know that feelings do not dampen because of weather. You can always meet up with him again, rain or shine."

A loud metallic rap sounded from downstairs and ricocheted up the staircase, causing both to jump in surprise.

"Who could be banging on the doorknocker in this weather?" Ann voiced in confusion. "Should we go check who it is? Your father is in the barn caring for the cows now, so he wouldn't know we have a visitor."

Erika shrugged a response and got up from her chair to follow her mother down the stairs and to the front door. Upon opening the latter, Erika emitted a gasp.

In front of the door was none other than Isaac, drenched from head to toe from the rain that poured down in streams for the past half-hour. His hair, no longer curly, instead looked like a wet mop and hung limply in saturated strands with droplets of water dripping off of each end. A rather large puddle was forming where he stood and attempted to seep through the tiny cracks in the porch, though water accumulated faster than it trickled down.

"I-Isaac?" she shouted in bewilderment. "What are you doing here?"

"Hold on, I'll get a towel and some fresh clothes," Ann spoke hurriedly while taking her leave and flying up the stairs.

"Well, I know our date today is ruined, but I wanted to see you again, regardless of the weather. Um, please tell your mom that it is unnecessary for her to get the clothes and towel, I was just going to go back home. Have a good d—"

"W-wait a second, you walked through pouring rain to simply talk to me and go out like that? You are positively soaked and will catch a cold if you stay like that! Uh-uh, stay right there until my mom gets back, and . . . besides-"she blushed lightly-"I'd like you to meet my parents for a bit."

Isaac looked at the floor and pursed his lips in decision. Slowly, he nodded in assent.

"I'd like that," he spoke with a slight yet incredibly warm and caring smile.

By then, Ann burst down the stairwell with two folded full-length towels as well as a pair of jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt.

"Sponge yourself off as best as you can," she said after tossing both towels at him, "and you can change into these in the bathroom over there," she added while placing the clothes on the edge of the sofa next to her and pointed to her left. "When you are changed, make yourself at home. This rain won't let up until seven o'clock, according to the weather forecast, so I can assure you that you are stuck here with us until then," she inserted again with a wink before disappearing up the stairs a second time.

"Your mom seems extremely friendly," spoke Isaac while pressing the first towel he reached for to his face and hair.

"That she is, but don't eat anything she cooks," Erika giggled before turning crimson again. "So . . . I have an idea. Why don't we . . . um . . . have our date here?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," he smiled while pausing from wiping his arms. "Thank you very much for letting me stay for a little while, and borrow some clothes. Please thank your mom for me as well."

"It's nothing, really. Heck, you walked through the rain to talk to me, so this is the least I—we—could do in gratitude."

Isaac nodded with his genial smile and pointed across her left shoulder. "So the bathroom is that way?"

"Ah, um, yes, it is!" she blurted while stepping away from the doorway. "Gosh, I'm sorry, I'm just keeping you wet. . . ."

"N-no, don't think that! It is quite fine; I'd much rather talk with you for a minute than stay dry for the same amount of time."

If she were able to blush any deeper, she would have.

"Regardless, you ought to get out of those wet clothes as soon as possible! Go ahead and change; we can talk after that."

"Will do," he stated with a bow before stepping over the threshold and across the room, picking up the articles of clothing on the sofa and stepping through the bathroom door before closing it after him.

Erika pressed her hands against her cheeks and felt the heat transitioning between them. _Isaac . . . here . . . at my house and meeting my family. Isn't life fickle: a rainstorm comes up to dampen our day, and he simply shrugs off the weather to see me? This will definitely be a night to remember, _she thought with a euphoric smile while closing the open door to the pounding rain outside.

* * *

Isaac came out of the bathroom with his wet clothes in one hand and the wet towels in another, each of which were neatly folded; his hair was a mess from the constant toweling that he performed on it, even if he patted it down with his hands soon afterwards. Upon seeing Erika waiting for him on the sofa in the other room (which he deemed was the family room), he went back into the bathroom, placed his belongings and towels on the edge of the lavatory, walked out to where she was, and sat next to her. She seemed deep in thought at the time, so he didn't dare speak up and startle her. Half a minute later, she gradually came back to reality and spotted him at her right. Her emerald eyes darted downwards at first in fear and noticed that the clothes her mom had given him fit him perfectly, then gradually lifted up and met his deep and kindly brown ones.

"Hey," she softly greeted.

"Hey as well," he said similarly. "So, uh, what do you propose we do for this date of ours?"

She looked away in embarrassment, not because of the straightforwardness of the question but because of something else: she had no idea what to do. _Why haven't I thought about this a bit ago? _she inquired rhetorically to herself, but found that she answered herself anyway. _ Right, this wasn't the plan until just ten minutes ago. But what to do! He and I are so close . . . and. . . . _A gentle pat on the hand awakened her from her pseudo-trance and she glanced at it to spot Isaac's hand on hers.

"I'm sorry, that is cruel of me; it has been only ten minutes ago, huh . . . ? Well, I'm sure we can figure something out eventually," he spoke with his infinitely amiable smile before kissing her on the right cheek lightly.

She felt a warm shudder come over her as she placed her right hand on the respective cheek. She had never been kissed by anyone before, other than her parents when she was young, and this unexpected one was so sweet and gentle that she took it graciously. Her cheeks turned a deep rouge hue while an unhidden smile revealed itself.

"I'm sure we can and will," she voiced in agreement as she embraced him warmly and he her.

The front door of the house opened slowly, revealing the figure of a man wrestling with his umbrella with one hand and trying to shuffle his feet out of a pair of worn rubber farm boots. The man was thirty-six years of age and sported long brown hair that jutted out from underneath a green baseball cap. He was garbed in blue overalls that were strapped around his shoulder; a thick white long-sleeved shirt; and a red rounded kerchief around his neck, tied in the back. The twosome embarrassedly broke their cuddle and focused on the man in the doorway.

"Hi, Dad," Erika managed to articulate after clearing her throat.

"Eh? Ack!" were the only things her father said before tumbling through the door and onto the floor of the room, the troublesome umbrella flying harmlessly onto the porch followed by the two boots that floated synchronously through the air and next to it. It seemed that three tasks at the same time—knocking off his boots, closing an umbrella, and leaning his head into the room—were too much for him to handle. Nonetheless, he leapt back to his feet and dusted his overalls off before looking upwards again to spot the two on the sofa.

"Ah, hello Erika! I didn't expect to see you down here so early. But . . . then again, I see you have a friend here, huh?" he asked in a soft voice while nodding cordially to Isaac.

"Yep! Please meet Isaac. Isaac, this is my father."

"Pleased to meet you," Isaac nodded with a slight smile while holding out his hand.

"Likewise," grinned her father, taking Isaac's hand with his own and shaking it for a second or two. "Now, what do you two want to have for dinner?"

"Dinner . . . dinner . . . ," repeated Erika, not listening to the question but only focusing on the word. Suddenly she snapped back to the present and asked: "Huh? What did you say?"

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Oh, I don't know . . . surprise us, Dad."

"Sure thing," he assented with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen.

Alone again with Isaac, Erika looked at him again with a shy smile.

"I just had an idea of what to do for our date. How about an indoor picnic?" she asked, not noticing that a slightly audible shriek sounded out from the kitchen.

Isaac tilted his head slightly in confusion, also not noticing the noise, but answered: "Sure. I've never heard of one before, but it sounds fun."

She giggled and ascended from the couch.

"Now, please don't get up, okay? I'll be back soon."

Before he could nod, she turned around and traveled up the staircase. A little while later, she came back down with a very thick multi-coloured quilt held in the middle so that the two longer ends lolled to each of their sides. Once her feet had left the last stair and she after walking to the center of room, she unfurled the quilt while holding one edge and aided it to the ground, making sure that everywhere on top of the quilt was flat. She then proceeded to walk onto the soft and plushy comforter and sat near the center.

"Come on," she invited to Isaac as he stared at her inquisitively, though amiably at the same time. "Quilts don't bite," she continued while patting the other side.

Shrugging his shoulders, he got off of the sofa and placed himself next to her, blushing lightly and smiling shyly over to her.

* * *

Ann had sneaked down the stairs and into the kitchen while Erika sat on the sofa alone with her thoughts. From there, not only did she have access to listen in on the twosome's conversations when Isaac was fully changed, but also to a vantage point where she could see the two and satisfy her curiosity. She turned off the light so that she was hardly distinguishable and stood upright at the corner of the door, almost silently watching the twain.

"Aw, how cute the two of them look together," she whispered with a giggle when Isaac sat on the couch next to Erika. She repeated several similar statements to herself until she heard the front door open and her husband fall through it. "Oh gosh!" she laughed again in a whisper, covering her mouth in case she was heard; luckily for her, she was not.

After she watched the introductions, she felt that everything would continue smoothly until she heard her husband say the dreaded phrases "what do you want for dinner" and "sure thing" together. Her eyes went wide in fear, looking left and right for a corner to hide in, but she knew that it was too late: she was going to be caught by her husband. As soon as he rounded the corner, she hastily grabbed his arm and covered his mouth, dragging him to the side. He let loose a muffled scream, but it was mainly stifled by her hand.

"Ann!" he whispered agitatedly when she dropped both hands to her sides. "First off, please don't scare me like that; my heart nearly jumped out of my mouth! And secondly, this must be the eighth time you are spying on people from here!"

"Seventh," she interrupted with a witty smile.

"Alright, seventh. Have you no shame in denying people private conversations, of their most guarded secrets, of—"

"I think they are a dating couple," she stated simply while keeping her grin posted across her face.

"Really? Let me see," he said in an excited voice, scooting nearer to the corner and looking around it eagerly.

_Ha, works every time_, she thought with a chuckle, looking around the corner as well. To their surprise, their daughter went upstairs (they heard her footsteps) and only Isaac was sitting on the couch with a befuddled smile on his face.

"Are you sure they are dating?" her husband asked.

"Yep, I'm positive. Now tell me, what are you planning on cooking?"

"Huh? Why?" he inquired while looking back towards her.

"Because one of us needs to start cooking right now, else they would start getting curious of why you are so silent and with the lights off."

"Hmm, good point," he agreed while flicking the light switch, causing the halogen lamp at the ceiling to glow with a blinding flash. "Well, I left some meatballs in the fridge to thaw out, so I was thinking about a spaghetti dinner."

"Great! That is something I could cook!"

Her husband gave a fearful look and shook his head, saying: "I don't know. . . ."

"Aw come on, hon, I'm great with medley dishes, and pasta too!"

"You remember the last time you cooked spaghetti, right? You added so much oregano and parsley that the sauce was green. . . ."

"A once-in-a-lifetime mistake, hon, honestly! Yeesh, you are worse than Dad," she laughed. "Sure you don't scrutinize your cakes for poison, but you are twice as picky when I'm in the kitchen."

"Yeah, you're right . . . I'm sorry, dear. Feel free to start out the spaghetti and noodles, but please . . . for the children out there, go easy on the greens, okay?"

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss; I'll be fine!"

"Fine, fine, but we'll trade places every five minutes and clue in the other on what happened in the absence, deal?"

She grinned ear-to-ear from the other side of the kitchen and gave a nod.

"Deal," she said firmly while taking a high-walled pot out for the noodles and a pan for the sauce, making a bit of noise while she did so unconsciously. The moment she looked around, she saw her husband signaling her to come to the corner. "What, what is it?" she whispered even lower than before.

"Come on, quilts don't bite," came the cheery voice of their daughter from the other room."

That was more than enough incentive for her to rush over and peer over her husband's shoulder to see Erika sitting cross-legged on a newly laid-out quilt on the floor, with Isaac sitting down next to her similarly.

"Isn't that a darling sight," she giggled.

"Too true, love, too true," he agreed with a chuckle of his own.

"That reminds me of our younger days . . . twenty years ago, at this same farm, that same floor, remember? In fact, they are pretty much the exact likeness of us, way back when. . . ."

"I recall it all too well, hon: our first dance ever, in the dark with only each other and the glow of the harvest moon for company," he spoke as if in revery. Ann's cheeks turned red while flashing back to that night and her mouth twisted into a delighted smile. "Who knew," he continued, "that our daughter would be doing the same thing that we did, and in the same room? Let's just hope that she loves him as much as we do each other."

"Yes, let's, but at the moment, we have some cooking to do."

"Right you are, dear. Right you are," her husband said while rubbing his hands together, eager to start cooking and making their daughter have the best first date of her young life.

* * *

"_Second entry: Like the sun had promised me this morning, this day had become more perfect than I ever could have dreamed! Though it started to rain torrentially before Isaac's and my planned date together and disgruntled me at first, Isaac pierced through the weather to visit and made my day a thousand million times better. He met my mom and dad personally, of which I was exceedingly glad about, and, once we were alone, gave me the sweetest kiss on the cheek. Mom and Dad worked together on supper today and made a delightful spaghetti dinner. Sure, Mom went a little overboard with the spices again, but at least it didn't look too green. They ate in the kitchen while Isaac and I sat down for an indoor picnic in the family room and chatted about everything and nothing. He is much more than a fantastic friend and a date: he is my closest ally, my life, my love. I am positive that he feels the same way for me and that our feelings will never fade into the darkness. Isn't life fickle, Diary, in more than many of its ways? At first I saw Isaac as a close and likeable friend, and then it gradually shifted in a few days into the utmost essence of friendship: true love. However, I do not say and will never say that this is the best day of my entire life, as I am sure that, in the future, Isaac and I will be so much closer to each other, and thus so much happier."_

Erika poured through the lines that she had just written and smiled as she recalled what had happened earlier for what she assumed was the hundredth time. It was just so perfect—in fact, absolutely so—that she and Isaac were together as girlfriend and boyfriend. She closed the diary completely, hugged it against herself, and placed it back into its usual hiding spot: the little right-most corner of her writing desk. The digital clock in front of her flashed **"11:00 PM" **on its face, as if alerting her that it was time for her to go to bed.

"Isn't life fickle?" she giggled to herself before she blew out each of the candles one by one and proceeded to crawl underneath the comforter of her bed, wishing deeply for dreams of Isaac to come to her in her sleep.


End file.
